


Hushed Whispers and Unknown Syllables

by TheAwkwardPinCushion



Category: Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Antivan Language, F/M, but ended up not, elven language, this was gonna start out smutty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-21
Updated: 2014-12-27
Packaged: 2018-03-02 14:22:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2815250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheAwkwardPinCushion/pseuds/TheAwkwardPinCushion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lyna Mahariel comes back from a solo mission bruised and bloody and Zev falls the fuck apart. Fluff ensues.</p><p>Also I REALLY like the idea of Zevran and Dalish!Warden slipping into their native languages when sharing intimate moments (not just sex).</p><p>I used google translate for Antivan (Spanish). Shoot me. Translations at the end.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

When Lyna Mahariel limped back into the camp, Zevran dropped the dagger he was sharpening. He ran as _fast_ as his legs could take him across the clearing and stopped, so he could embrace her and be sure not to hurt her further. “I was so scared, _mi_ _amor._ ” He shook slightly as he held her bruised face in his hands. “You were gone so long...please don't ever do that to me again.”

“I'm so sorry, _ma vhenan_ ,” Lyna whispered, her lips split. Zevran gently kissed her forehead, careful to miss any bruises.

“ _Yo no quiero volver a perderte de nuevo,_ ” he whispered. He was shaking, looking at her all over to make sure she was _really_ there, “ _Quédate conmigo, mi amor._ ”

“ _Abelas, ma vhenan,”_ Lyna said quietly.

Alistair looked at the display of affection that no one really saw between the two elves. He held back the urge to ask for translations. He glanced at Wynne and she shook her head, silently telling him to _leave them_ _**alone.** _

Zevran led Lyna to a tree stump for her to sit on, still mumbling in Antivan. He unlaced her boots and slowly pulled them off her tired legs. When she winced, he repeated the same word several times, _“Perdóname.”_ It sounded like an apology to the others.

Zevran slowly, and with a gentleness _no one_ knew he had in him, assessed the damage to her feet and legs. _“Debería haber ido contigo.”_ He looked so... _sad._ Like he had failed his mission, only so much worse.

“You fractured your leg, _mi amor,_ ” he said, kissing her knee. He looked towards Wynne. She walked over.

“Her leg...”

“I know, dear. I can fix it. It isn't too bad,” Wynne soothed, letting her magic flow through her fingers and into the fracture. “That's the worst of it, unless you'd like me to heal the cuts?” She was addressing Lyna now, who just shook her head.

Zevran helped the weak and hurting woman to her feet. “You need to get the dirt out of your cuts, _mi amor._ ”

“Can't I just sleep?” Lyna asked.

“Come. I'll help.”

Alistair didn't quite trust him to be gentlemanly. He shot a glare at the assassin and made sure he understood not to hurt her.

Zevran picked her up, either his lean muscles storing more strength than they looked, or Lyna being much lighter than she seemed with all her armor (sans boots) and weapons. He carried her to the quiet and still lake not far from the camp.

“May I?” he asked before unbuttoning her leather armor. He didn't touch her more than necessary until she gave him permission.

“Of course,” Lyna said weakly.

Zevran slowly and gently freed her from her armor, revealing more blood and bruises. “Oh, _mi amor..._ I should have been with you.”

“It isn't as bad as it looks, _ma vhenan.”_

Zevran knew better.

He grabbed the mild Antivan soap out of his bag and lathered his hands. “Turn.”

Lyna slowly turned so she was facing away from her lover. “The soap might sting a bit, but that means it's working, alright?” Zevran said in her ear, careful not to touch her until she acknowledged him. She nodded and moved her hair away from her neck.

He slowly and gently rubbed the cinnamon-smelling soap into her shoulders and arms. He kissed the top of her head, humming a lullaby he learned somewhere. He worked his way around her, making sure to get every inch of her body. He kissed the tip of her nose, which always made her smile. She did, as best as she could with her chapped lips.

“You really are beautiful, you know,” he said. He scooped water up in his hands and rinsed her off, watching the bubbles pop and disappear.

“You only say that because I'm naked,” Lyna laughed.

“No,” Zevran said, “you are so, _so_ beautiful. And I want you to know because I don't know when I'll be able to tell you again.” He ran his hands up the curve of her hips. “The way you're shaped...” He nuzzled his nose into the crook of her now-clean neck. “The way you smell...” He traced her jawline with his fingertip. “You.”

He kissed her, softer than Lyna thinks he ever had. He meant it. “We should get dressed before my showering you with compliments turns much less innocent,” he said with a smile. “Maybe in the morning.”

He helped her out of the lake, drying her off with his own shirt and kissing random parts of her as he did so, earning himself many giggles and half-hearted swats. He wrapped her in a cloak borrowed from Morrigan, who requested to not have it returned. _“Eres muy hermosa, mi amor,”_ he purred in her ear. She shuddered.

“To camp, love,” she reminded him.

“Oh yes, camp,” he laughed softly. He kissed the shell of her ear and led her back.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Abelas – sorrow (used for an apology)  
> ma vhenan – my heart
> 
> Yo no quiero volver a perderte de nuevo – I don't ever want to lose you again.  
> Quédate conmigo, mi amor. - Stay with me, my love.  
> Perdóname – Forgive me  
> Debería haber ido contigo – I should have gone with you  
> Eres muy hermosa, mi amor. - You are very beautiful, my love.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ah, here's the smut. I found it.

Zevran was very protective of Lyna in the days that followed that. He always begged to go with her on missions and when she didn't take him, he would sit at camp anxiously until she came back.

When she _did_ bring him, though, he would always fight close to her, glancing in her direction frequently to make sure she was okay. She usually was, swinging her battleaxe and taking down as many enemies as she could. After _every_ fight, he would check on her to make sure she was okay. 

“I didn't know you had it in you,” Alistair said on a particularly peaceful morning.

“What are you talking about?” Zevran asked.

“You  _care_ about her. It's sweet,” the warrior smiled at him. 

Zevran rolled his eyes, hoping to the Maker that he wasn't blushing.

 

Lyna, in Zevran's opinion, was one of the most gorgeous beings on the planet. She was full of this grace and beauty that made her seem like she was glowing. She practically danced on the battlefield. The way she swung the sword that was almost as big as her was amazing to him. Her armor almost doubled her weight, and the fact that she was so strong made him see her as even more amazing. He saw her as practically divinity. Especially when she was so gentle and merciful when she had the opportunity to be.

Lyna, on the other hand, didn't think she was anything special. She thought she was too bulky and not soft enough. She thought her scars made her ugly, especially the ones from before she started fighting. She thought the way her short hair stuck up in all directions made her undesirable. She thought the freckles that dotted her shoulders and face were off-putting. She didn't like the color of her eyes (Zevran said they looked like the earth after it rains, beautiful and new and clean. She told him he was cheesy).

 

In camp, when they found somewhere with a water source, she would go wash herself off. He would follow, offering to wash her back and just be close to her. When they helped the Dalish elves with their werewolf problem, that was no different.

“Zevran, I don't need you help. Really,” Lyna said as she heard him follow her to the lake.

“You may not need me, but I want to help, _mi amor.”_

She couldn't say no when he said that.

“Fine,” she chuckled.

 

He followed her to the small lake, helping her out of her heavy armor. “How you manage to wear this, I'll never understand,” he laughed. He pulled off his own leather armor and waded into the water.

“I wish you wouldn't look at me so hard,” Lyna said.

“Why is that?” Zevran asked, putting her hair over one shoulder and kissing the other softly.

“I have so many scars and freckles and-”

“I think they're beautiful. You can't deny me the finer things in life. I consider looking at you in all your beauty to be one of them,” he said, kissing his way up her neck and up to her ear. He nibbled on the lobe, making her sigh quietly.

“I think you're blind,” she said.

He rubbed the bar of soap onto her back and worked the bubbles all around her. She blushed when he got down to her thighs. “I can-”

“I _want_ to,” he said, kissing a soap- free spot on her leg. She blushed and protested no further.

 

When he rinsed her off and quickly scrubbed the dirt off himself, he grabbed her hand before she could reach for the rags they were going to use to dry off. “Wait.”

Lyna arched an eyebrow. “Why?”

Zevran pulled her close to him and kissed her, softly at first. His hands wandered, finding the sensitive spots on her hips and thighs. She was all lean muscle and he _loved_ it.

She pressed herself against him, biting at his lip softly. She ran a hand through his hair and pulled. He loved having his hair pulled.

He dug his nails into her sides and pressed his arousal against her hip. He trailed kisses down to her neck, then to her breasts. Small as they were, he loved them. He kneaded one with his hand and covered the other in kisses and bites. After what seemed like mere moments of this, he switched and did the same for the other. Lyna pulled his hair even harder, letting her head fall back and a quiet moan escape her lips.

He let the hand on her breast slowly make its way down, leaving goosebumps wherever his fingers trailed. He massaged her thigh slowly, the breathy sounds she was making turning to small moans. She wanted _more,_ and he knew it.

He lifted her up onto a smooth rock, exposing her lower half and making her cheeks redden even further. He looked up at her, hands on her knees, and asked, “May I?”

Lyna nodded and closed her eyes, not wanting to see his face as he spread her legs. He trailed light kisses up the inside of her thigh, skipping over the warmness between them and trailing his lips down the other. She whimpered in frustration.

“Patience, _mi amor,_ ” he purred, biting the softer skin gently.

Lyna groaned and curled her toes. She grabbed the edge of the rock she was sitting on and squeezed until her knuckles were paler than they were before. Zevran kissed her everywhere, always avoiding where she really wanted to be kissed.

“Please,” she whimpered, her cheeks red and her knuckles white.

“Please what?” Zevran purred, looking up at her from between her legs. It was one of her favorite sights.

“You _know_ what,” she pouted.

“No, I don't think I do.” He arched his eyebrow and smirked.

Lyna's eyes narrowed. She tightened her grip on his hair and pulled his face to where she wanted it to be.

Zevran adjusted quickly, swirling his tongue around her clit and holding her thighs down as she tried to squirm. He whimpered quietly as she pulled harder.

Her breathy noises got louder and louder until she was moaning and squirming. She was certain that she could be heard at camp, but she didn't care. The feeling of his mouth on her was _exquisite._

He slid one of his hands off her thigh, trailing it to right under his mouth, sliding one finger into her. She gasped and pushed against him. As he sucked on her sensitive bud, he slipped another finger in. He slowly curled them up, and that was it for her.

She moaned and bucked her hips, pulling his face impossibly close. Her orgasm was powerful enough that she felt like she was going to explode. The best part was, _he didn't stop._ He kept licking and moving his fingers until she saw stars.

She moaned his name, _loud._ Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes were closed tight. Zevran thought it was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.

She slipped into elvish, talking fast and high-pitched until she clamped down on his fingers ever tighter, another orgasm pulsing through her. “Fuck,” she panted. She let his hair go.

“You should do that more often,” Zevran said, licking his fingers. Lyna bit her lip.

“You actually enjoy doing that?” she asked.

“Of course,” Zevran replied, wiping the glistening juices off his chin. “Pleasing you is my favorite thing to do, _mi amor.”_

Lyna slid back into the water, legs wobbly. Zevran wrapped his arms around her waist.

“Do you feel up to staying a little longer?” she asked, running her fingertips down his spine slowly. He gulped.

“Anything for you, _mi amor.”_

 


End file.
